Currently Without A Name
by strawberryfinn
Summary: [COMPLETE] Tapeworm has always been really close to Cody. He's never hit it off that well with Zack. Cody finds himself in the middle of a fight between Zack and Tapeworm. Can Zack and Tapeworm pretend to like each other for Cody's sake?
1. Bus Ride

**Note: **I don't own _The Suite Life_ or any of the actors. Tapeworm's my favorite character in the whole show though, so I thought he deserved a story. The hotdog story is true, by the way (he ate 20). I made up his name though--and basically everything else is made up besides the fact that he's a math genius. Yeah, so that's about it.

I glance nervously at Cody. He's a lot quieter than usual today. Being his best friend besides Zack, I know when something's wrong with Cody.

"Hey," I say, trying to sound casual. "You alright, Cody?"

"Yeah," he mutters, keeping his eyes away from me.

Yeah, something's wrong alright. Cody has got to be the most pathetic liar on the planet. He always pulls his eyes away, like he thinks the floor is the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

"No man," I say, punching him playfully in the arm. "Seriously, are you ok?"

"Yeah," he says, looking away from me and out the window. "It's nothing."

_Sure_, I think to myself, as I pull one of my hands through my dark brown hair. _Sure_.

"Tapeworm?" he's asking me.

"Yeah, Cody?"

"I…" he breaks off. I don't think he can tell me yet.

"It's ok, Cody," I say. "It's ok."

I turn my head and look a couple of seats back. There's Zack, sitting with Max and Bob. He's talking to about a gajillion people all at once. It's sort of funny actually.

Zack and Cody are twins, and they're almost nothing alike.

I mean, well Zack has that whole appearance that he's all cool and stuff, and then Cody's just nice and open to everybody. Zack thinks I'm a dork. Cody wouldn't care if I had three noses. It's just like that.

I think the only reason why Zack really puts up with me is because I'm tight with Cody. Otherwise, he'd just ignore me. Or kill me, for that mater.

Sometimes I think he's going to.

Like last week, Zack and I get into this huge fight over something really stupid. I actually forget what it is. It may have had to do with some churros Mrs. Martin got us.

Anyway, Zack and I were like screaming our heads off at each other, and then Zack got this weird evil look in his eye like he wanted to kill me. And then he grabbed a fork and pointed at me like it was a knife.

Yeah, what's a fork going to do to me? He looked like he wanted to take that fork and stab my heart and eat it for breakfast or something. It was really weird.

Anyway, Cody starts telling us to cool down and that everything's going to be alright. And pretty soon, Zack doesn't look so angry anymore, and that weird crazy look in his eyes is gone.

And that just says how great it is to have Cody as a friend. You get protection from his crazy older twin, and he's a nice guy.

When Zack and Cody first came to school, Zack got all the friends. Everybody liked Zack. And Cody just sort of sat over there in the corner. I was sort of different back then. I hung out with Zack. Well, back then I was just Sean. Sean Axle.

How did I get to be Tapeworm? Well, one day Zack dared me to eat ten hotdogs at once. I love hotdogs. I swear, whoever created them is a genius. There's like that perfect meat substance—I actually don't want to know what's really in there—in a soft bun. Add ketchup, mustard, relish, and onions—you're in Heaven. Anyway, I outdid him. I ate twenty. And then I puked for about a solid hour after, but that's ok. So Zack nicknamed me Tapeworm. And it stuck. The only person who calls me Sean—sometimes—would be my mom.

So I was friends with Zack. I never really paid attention to Cody. He was just the dork on the sidelines: the one who loved school and got straight A's.

But then I got moved to advance placement math. (Yeah, I'm really good at math. I'm what they call "math genius"). And besides the really scary kids in there like Agnes, there was Cody. So I stuck with Cody.

And I ended up surviving taking Algebra in sixth grade.

Cody and I became friends. After I got moved to advance placement, Zack sort of stopped talking to me. I guess I was a dork too.

I survived taking Geometry in seventh. I took Algebra II with Cody in eighth.

But now, since we didn't finish Algebra II in eighth, we're taking it again as freshmen.

But still, you have to admit I'm pretty smart. At least in Math.

You see, Cody's like smart at everything. He's pretty much good at everything too. Well, except for basketball. And baseball for that matter.

He probably has the worst hand-eye coordination of anybody in the school.

But scratch that. Cody's super-smart at everything else.

I'm only good at Math. And I can play some sports. But I'm an average player—Zack's the best one. And I'm really bad at English and Social Studies.

All the letters just swim around and I have no idea what I just read. Before, I got by with D's in those classes. Until Cody came.

When Cody and I were closer, he helped me. I got B's. (Hey, it's not an A, but they're _way _better than D's). Zack scoffed, but Cody didn't care.

That's another thing. Cody doesn't care what others think of him. He only cares what he thinks of himself.

I like that in a friend. And since he'd done so much for me, I needed to do something for him.

Which brings us back to reality.

Something's wrong and I'm going to find out what it is.

"Tapeworm?" Cody asks.

"Yeah?" I say.

"I know you don't like Zack but…" he trails off.

I'm afraid he's going to ask me for a favor like the time when we were getting ready to go to Math Camp and I had to go get him his Blankie. _That_ was embarrassing. Everybody was staring at me holding that little blue felt blanket, and the worst part was when I was going to give it to him, he told me he didn't want it anymore—like he was a _big_ boy now. So _then_ I had to take it back, through the Tipton's lobby. Stupid blanket.

"Yeah?" I try to sound disinterested, but it's not really working. _What_ about Zack?

"Could you sort of… _try _to get along with him?"

"Why?" If there's one thing I do that some people don't like, I don't pretend. I don't pretend to like someone that I don't like. Ooh, and another thing that drives me absolutely crazy is an artificial person.

Whoops, I got off-track again. Back to the present.

"He…"

"What, Cody?" I'm sort of starting to get impatient.

"He really doesn't like you. He doesn't want me to hang out with you anymore."

I roll my eyes. What's new? Zack hasn't liked me ever since I became math genius wonder child. But who cares? Cody likes me.

And Cody's the better twin.

"Please?" Cody's pleading me with those huge brown eyes.

You can't say "no" to those sad looking eyes. Trust me. I've been pressured into things a lot by those eyes.

"I'll do my best," I say, but I know it's not going to happen. Because right after first period, Zack does something that just ticks me off…


	2. Dissection

I love writing this story.

Chapter 2:

I'm drumming my hands on the table, tapping out a rhythm. I love drumming, did I mention that? Well, I sort of do play drums for our band.

Oh—let me tell you about our band. Over the last two years, it's changed some. It used to be called… I forgot, something about school… and now it's called Armageddon. Don't worry. At first I had no idea what it meant either. Cody told me it meant basically, the end of the world, but for us, it's not in any religious sense. And when we play, it sort of seems like the end of the world.

I still play the drums, as I told you before, and Cody plays keyboard. Zack plays guitar—electric guitar. Max plays bass. Yeah, it's had the same members for two years, but I guess it's changed. A little at least.

We still all sing—alone, we bluntly stink, but put together, we're ok. I wasn't joking about the end of the world though.

Oh God, off track again. Anyway, I glance over at Cody. He's doing homework. You see, the teacher—her name's Miss Evans—she always gives us time to do our homework. Cody does it. I drum on the desk. Maybe that's why I never get anything done.

I pull out a piece of paper. Maybe I should get started on math. I write "Tapeworm" in the corner, and then cross it out.

They don't call me Tapeworm in high school. Well, they call me Tapeworm, but I'm not allowed to write that as my name.

Sean. I feel weird when people call me Sean. It used to be ok, since that was my name. But now I don't feel like Sean. I feel like Tapeworm.

Ugh, stupid off-track thing of mine. Open the Algebra 2 and Trig book.

Directions. Hmm… solve using augmented matrices. Oh God.

3x + 2y – z 10, x + 4y + 2z 3, 2x + 3y – 5z 23

It's not hard. Actually, it's really easy. It just takes really long. And it's pointless.

I mean, where are you going to use that in life? When is someone going to hand you a paper and say, "Solve this and you get the job. Augmented matrices, son! Augmented matrices!"

I get about half way through the problem. The bell system sounds. Math's over.

I look at Cody. He's finished.

I look at my paper. I've started.

"My golly," I say. "Use augmented matrices. Why don't _you_ use augmented matrices?" I scream my head off at the math book and then slam it against my head exactly twenty six times.

I used to have OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). I went to counseling though, and it got better. (My dad gave me a pretty hard time about it. My dad's never really liked me much. My mom says we just don't see eye to eye. But sometimes he hurts me when she's not looking. He says the meanest things and grabs my arms and squeezes and stuff. It doesn't bug me that much though). I still like even numbers. When I did have OCD though, I wasn't bugged about neatness though. I just had to have even numbers, all the time. Oh, and sometimes I thought I hurt someone when I hadn't really.

I'm better now, I swear.

Miss Evans cracks up. Cody doesn't even glance at me.

He's used to me saying weird stuff. It's me. Tapeworm. What do you expect?

I grab all my stuff and shove it into my backpack. It gets all big, and you can see where the books stretch my backpack at weird angles. Cody flinches.

Cody's a neat freak. He always has been and he will always be one.

If there's one thing I don't like about Cody, that's it. He's always bugging me about eating hotdogs _neatly_. Sort of hard if you have relish, onions, ketchup, and mustard all over them. Really, you'd think he'd understand. He's always telling me to brush my hair every morning. Hey, sometimes I forget. It doesn't really matter. You can't really notice, since my hair's just a huge brown messy bush anyway. (That drives my dad crazy too).

Anyway, I head out with Cody. I really am starving, but I have to go to get my stuff from my locker for the next class. Science. Ugh.

Oh God. Dissections. I have to dissect a sheep's eye. Oh God. My golly. Oh boy.

One thing I really can't stand are dissections. I remember in seventh grade when I met Cody. We chose each other as lab partners. We dissected a pig fetus together. He turned white and started shaking after he made the first cut. What's it called? Oh yeah, incision. I puked on our pig. All over.

It may have had to do with something about my eating five hotdogs before the dissection. It was a pig! I felt sick. I mean, pigs are mainly what hotdogs are made from, right? Anyway, after I puked all over it, I didn't eat hotdogs for a month. But then I had to give up. They taste way too good.

But the poor pig. It looked so innocent. And they killed it just when it was born.

I couldn't stand it.

Usually people with OCD have to pull everything apart so they know what they're eating before they eat it or whatever. It seems that that part's not built into my OCD. Just the… wait, you know. I told you already. Even numbers.

Our teacher wasn't very happy. He yelled at Cody for five minutes and then yelled at me for half an hour. I was, after all, the one that hurled on our pig. Hey, at least we didn't have to dissect it after. Yeah, I know, we did have to do that five page paper on properly dissecting after.

That was the only time that Zack was better at something than Cody was. Excluding basketball of course. And being mean.

Zack went for that pig like a crazy person. He loved it. He loved watching the red stuff spill out and cutting the poor little pig's mouth open.

When I saw him do it, I had to leave the room. That was the only time in seventh grade that I actually cried. Besides the times when my dad smacked me around when he got angry. Oh, my dad got mad at me when the teacher phoned home and told him about my accident. That wasn't the best day in my life.

You would think that after that disaster, I would be saved from having to dissect again.

Think again.

The extremely intelligent board of directors for high school—even after my mom came in and told them about the last dissection—decided to have me do this. They signed me up with someone who loved dissections.

Guess who?

You're right. Zack.

I get my sheep eye packet from my locker. I hate my science partner.

Zackary Martin. Eek.

Cody's stuck with Agnes though. I can't really complain.

Well, she liked dissections too. That's the only reason he got stuck with her.

Why a sheep's eye? That's all I have to say. Isn't a sheep's eye a whole lot less advanced than a pig fetus?

I walk into the science room with Cody. Oh God. I think I'm going to pass out. Or puke.

I'd rather pass out.

Zack's sitting over there, enthusiastically setting up the working station. Scalpels.

I hate scalpels. I hate those little probe things too. I hate the eye staring at me. It's this eye just lying there in this plastic container with a lid on top.

Stop looking at me.

Zack's face splits into this huge grin.

He enjoys watching me suffer.

I think I need to puke. The eye's staring at me. Closer, closer.

Close the eye. I don't want to look at it anymore.

The eye reminds me of Cody's. Big, brown, sad.

Oh God. Don't think about Cody. It's not Cody's eye. It's not.

It is.

No it's not.

I close my eyes and try to get control of myself. I sit down on top of my hands. I get a little claustrophobic easily too. Breathe in, breathe out.

Don't think about the eye. Don't think about the packet with all the names of the different parts of the eye including those weird looking veins. Don't think about the scalpel. Don't think about the eye really being Cody's eye.

I calm down a little. I open my eye. The sheep eye is right in front of my eye.

Oh my God.

Oh my God it's looking at me.

I'm going to kill Cody. I'm going to kill Cody.

I can't hold it back anymore.

I lean over the sink near our table and puke. I puke until my insides feel like they're coming out. Throw up. Everywhere.

I hear Cody calling, "Tapeworm. Tapeworm? Are you ok?"

The room's spinning, everybody looks the same. Cody's everywhere.

Before I pass out, I see one thing. Zack, a wicked smile on his face—the sheep's eye stabbed with the probe. He stabbed it and put it right in front of my eye.

Stupid Zack. Sorry, Cody. I can't be nice to him.

Everything turns black.

Review?


	3. Hotdogs

This story is so fun to write.

Chapter 3:

Something really cold is on my head. I try to push it away, but it comes again.

Cold and wet.

Oh God. I have a huge headache. I feel like it's going to split my head in two. I open one eye.

I see the huge brown eye again, and almost scream. But then I realize it's Cody.

"Tapeworm," he whispers worriedly, pulling that wet towel away from my face. That thing's like ice. "Tapeworm, are you ok?"

I really don't deserve Cody. He's always there, helping me along. He does everything for me. What do I do for him?

Puke on our dissection pig and get both of us a D. It was the only D he had ever gotten. It was the only time he was mad at me too. Wait, I take that back. I remember a couple of other times he was made at me. Like the time when I accidentally stuck marshmallows on the ceiling in his suite and he got in trouble, and the other time when I nearly burned his closet down and ooh… the time Zack threw dog poop at me but I ducked and it hit Cody… and the time when I was screaming and his cake didn't rise properly… oh God. Off track—again. Sorry. Well, the point is it wasn't the only time Cody was mad at me.

"Where's Zack?" I manage to croak. See, I told you that headache was killing me. I can't even talk right. That's saying something for me.

He closes his eyes, trying to keep his anger in, and breathing in deep. Cody does that when he's mad. I should know. I get that a lot from him.

"Mr. Forrester sent him to the principal's office," Cody says through gritted teeth. Mr. Forrester's our science teacher by the way. "Tapeworm, why possessed you to vomit everywhere?"

Sometimes Cody uses such big words that I can't understand him. But he only broadens his vocabulary when he's mad or he doesn't want me to understand him. Like one time when he was mad at me, (I'd put itching powder in his P.E. clothes on April Fool's Day), he used such big words, I just looked really stupid at him. Then he laughed at me, and he stopped being mad at me. I understood what he just said though.

"I don't know." I think about it for a second. And then it all comes flooding back. "I thought it was you, Cody. I thought it was your eye that I had to dissect and I thought I was going to kill you, and then I was freaking out and…"

I stop and get up to head over to the sink. I have to throw up again. Mr. Bass sends me to the office after I'm done. He wants to make sure I'm not really sick or anything.

I head over there, almost wishing I could break the sidewalk with each step I take. I'm mad. Stupid Zack.

I didn't find it necessary for him to scare me with that eye. Stop laughing at me! It's not funny!

I don't know why people find it funny when I suffer.

I've reached the nurse, and she looks at me like I'm a piece of dirt. "_Oh, it's you._"

How can I help it that I've been to her at least twice a month? It's not _my_ fault.

Ok, I admit all those times I decided to try to beat Monique, the hugest snob in the school, at gymnastics—it was sort of my fault. She calls herself a cheerleader—a perfect gymnast for God's sakes! She just said that she could beat me at any gymnastics. I took her bet. She told me she bet I couldn't do a cartwheel, and then a handstand with my feet balancing against a fence. I told her I could. I practiced a two times—I fell, both times, and then I made it two times. I told her, "You know what? I'm ready." She looked at me like I was a piece of dirt. I swear, I get that look a lot. And then she said, "Who thinks I'll win?" Nobody answered, and I tried not to laugh. They just sort of looked at the ground the way Cody looks when he's trying to lie. And then I managed to do it, but she fell. Everybody started clapping for me—that was the greatest part of all.

So I won. The next day, she came to me and said, "How about we do it again? This time we have to do a double cartwheel," or something like that. I said, "I don't even know what that is." She was like, "I don't either." I, trying to be reasonable, asked nicely, "Monique, how can we do it if we both don't know what it is?" And then she got all mad and said, "Do you think you're better than me? Let's try it at lunch."

It turned out that she _did_ know what she was talking about, but being the sore loser that she is, she _lied_ to me. So she went out there and did something crazy, messed up, and tried to cover it up by doing the splits. And then she said, "I bet you can't do that."

Of course I couldn't do it. What type of normal male child can do the splits without causing himself severe pain? So I said, "No, Monique. I can't do that," because it _was_ the truth.

And then she got all snobby was like, "See, I told you I was better in gymnastics than you."

Of course she is! Why should I care? When did I tell her that I was better? I swear, sometimes girls are the strangest people. Monique, especially.

She went on and on about how much _better_ she was than me, so I got really mad. I had to do something. So, I did a cartwheel, (yeah, I can do one—I'm not completely inflexible), messed up, and did _not_ do the splits, but sprained my ankle in an attempt to _sort_ of do them. I did something funny to my pelvis too, because it kept hurting for like a week, but then it went away. That was _really_ stupid of me, I know. And it's not funny—don't laugh! It was almost—not quite—as stupid as the time I broke my leg when I tripped over a manhole, (how do you do that?), and the time when I jumped off the top of a building and broke my arm. I was just trying to fly.

Anyway, it wasn't really special that I was at the nurse's office again. She poked my throat with a stick, and almost made me throw up again. I personally don't think she has _any_ credentials whatsoever. She kept me there for a longer time than necessary—she made me change into my emergency clothing, take a couple of Tylenols, tried to force me to take a _nap_, and then finally decided to let me go.

By the time I got out, it was almost lunchtime. I cut the end of my history class, and waited for Cody to come out. If Mrs. Thompson asked, I could always just tell her I was at the nurse.

Anyway, I was really excited and made Cody hurry as fast as he could to get to lunch. Today's hotdog day.

My golly, you must be thinking. Crazy Tapeworm and his hotdogs.

Well, you're right. I LOVE HOTDOGS! I could live on hotdogs alone. I could eat one everyday.

I finger the money in my pocket. My mom always gives me eight dollars before I go to school so I can buy something from the cafeteria. She's too lazy to make me a lunch. Usually, the food in the cafeteria is complete junk, but on hotdog day, I'm always first in line.

I get in line, and Mr. Mush, the cafeteria man, gives me a lopsided smile. (Usually people always have cafeteria ladies, but I have a cafeteria man). I fork over my money, and he gives me two cartons of milk, a branch of exactly _ten_ grapes, two of those plastic packs with sporks and straws, two packaged brownies, two packages of "apples in a bag", and _two_ hotdogs, even though I only have enough money for one. Mr. Mush knows how much I love hotdogs. (My mom always gives me more than actually needed—which is four dollars, because I have to get _two_ of everything, or else I can't eat or think about anything else. She learned that in fourth grade—when I sort of actually got it—when she gave me only _one_ peanut butter sandwich and I didn't do anything for the whole day but think about it. That included eating, sleeping, doing my homework—anything).

Well, who doesn't love hotdogs?

I flash him a smile that says _thank you_, and he nods, with that sort of crazy look on his face.

At school, they only have those weird packaged ketchups and no relish or onions or mustard, but it's ok. I grab two of the ketchup packets. Hotdogs would be good even plain, in my opinion. I sit down next to Cody at one of those hard metal tables, and he looks at me sort of weird. I think Cody gets tired of my hotdogs all the time. Not that I really care, of course.

"Tapeworm," he starts, brushing back his blonde bangs from his forehead. "Don't you ever get tired of eating those things?"

"He didn't mean that baby," I say, making a face of adoration at one of my hotdogs. "I swear, he didn't. I _love_ you, little baby. I bet you would taste so good with some onions," I say, picking my other hotdog and kissing it.

Cody laughs. I, on the other hand, really don't see what's so funny. I don't like it when Cody insults my hotdogs.

"What?" I ask, wondering what on earth's so funny.

Cody keeps laughing, and then I laugh too, because Cody looks so funny when he laughs. But then all of the sudden Cody's not laughing anymore and he's coughing and his face is turning all strangled looking and then I'm starting to get scared.

Cody's wheezing and gasping, and he falls on the ground, and then finally I realize that he's having an asthma attack. Cody has really bad asthma, and sometimes I think that's why he's so bad at sports. He gets tired when he has to run too hard, and usually can't come into my room, because it's full of dust bunnies. (He came in and had allergies to the dust, so he had an asthma attack. At the time I was twelve, so I had no idea what was happening, so Cody ended up paying a visit to the emergency room). That's sort of also why he's such a neat freak. I need to find his inhaler, only it's in his backpack which is back at his locker. I'm thinking about whether or not I should go for the locker, but then Cody starts pulling along with his hand at the pocket of his jacket.

I put my hand in his pocket and pull out this inhaler like magic. At first I'm so shocked it's there, so I just stand there like an idiot, but then I realize what to do with it, and shove it in Cody's mouth. I push down on the little bottle thing a couple of times, and pretty soon Cody's not so white and he's not choking and wheezing anymore. He just looks a bit pale.

"Thanks Tapeworm," he manages to wheeze. I give him a couple of more puffs on the inhaler to make sure he's ok.

"No problem," I grin back at him. "Take it easy little buddy."

Cody laughs weakly. "Go eat your hotdogs Tapeworm."

"Right!" I cry. "Hotdogs!"

You know how I told you I have OCD? I have to eat each hotdog a certain way or else I feel like the end of the world is coming. First I have to kiss the each end two times. Then I have to spread ketchup on. If I don't have any other toppings, it's ok. But I have to spread the ketchup out with my index finger on my right hand, and _that_ finger only. I have to finish each hotdog in an even number of bites, or else it doesn't work. (The time Zack dared me to do it, I finished each hotdog in _two_ bites each). Or else I feel like Cody having an asthma attack.

Anyway, I pull Cody up from the floor. He sits down, drained, next to me, and gets ready to watch my hotdog ritual. He finds it actually entertaining, and I don't really mind. It makes me feel like I'm not that different or messed up.

But when I get back to my tray, my blood almost freezes.

One of my hotdogs is gone.

_One of my hotdogs is gone._

I hear someone laugh, and I look up. It's Zack.

He has one quarter of my hotdog left in his hand. His cheeks are covered in ketchup. _He ate my hotdog. _

Review? Haha. You were supposed to laugh.


	4. Spaz attack

Chapter 4:

My heart is pounding. I can't believe it.

_How could he eat my hotdog? That was my hotdog. Mine, mine, mine. _

One thought keeps on popping back into my head though. I only have one now. _I only have one now._ _I only have one… _

Oh God. It's not even. What am I going to do? I need my hotdog. I can't eat without it. It's not even. It won't be even.

IT'S AN ODD NUMBER!

I'm starting to freak out. Everything looks the same and everybody's blurring together and I'm afraid I'm going to pass out soon. But I don't black out, and somehow that's even worse.

The next minute I'm screaming my head off and then crumbling to the floor, rocking back and forth in the fetal position. I don't even know how I got here.

Cody's trying to calm me down, but I don't even seem to know he's there.

All that's in my mind is my hotdog. I only have one. I only have one.

Cody gets up and goes over to Zack, who looks clearly shocked. I don't think he's ever seen me like this. Zack never really knew about my OCD. Well, he knew of course, but he'd never seen it in action.

And it scared him.

"WHY DID YOU EAT HIS HOTDOG ZACK? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HIM? YOU KNOW HE GOES CRAZY IF HE DOESN'T HAVE EVEN NUMBERS!"

I've never seen Cody this mad since the time I accidentally dyed his hair purple, yet it feels sort of good. He's angry at _Zack_. And he's angry for _me._

This doesn't make up anywhere for the fact that he ate my hotdog though. I feel like giving up. _Why am I so different? Why can't I just eat one hotdog? Why do I always have to eat two? Is there something wrong with me? _

There is. There has to be something wrong with me.

Everything turns all hazy and I realize I'm crying my eyes out. This really embarrasses me, and I start feeling sorry for myself, and soon I'm bawling.

Cody is screaming at Zack, Zack fishes a dollar out of his pocket and hands it to his twin, and then all the sudden Cody leaves and Zack is trying to make me feel better.

"God Tapeworm, calm down man," he tries, slamming me in what is probably supposed to be a kind gesture on my back. "I'm sorry I ate your hotdog. I swear, I didn't know."

Yeah right.

"What's wrong with the freak?" comes a drawl, and I look up. It's Drew. Figures.

Drew has hated me ever since I first stepped into his Kindergarten class. In my opinion, it's really stupid. I think it had something to do with the fact that I chose the T-Rex dinosaur toy before he did, and he's held a grudge ever since then. I mean, in first grade, I "copied his picture". Well, we sort of _all_ had to draw pictures of rabbits. In second grade, he didn't like my shoes, or something stupid like that. In third, I "stole all the joke books from the library." In fourth, I got the part that he wanted in our musical. In fifth, I beat him at handball. In sixth, I asked the girl _he_ wanted to dance with to dance. In seventh, I became friends with Cody Martin—the kid who lived at the Tipton hotel. In eighth, I got tickets to the All-American Rejects concert. Now as a freshman, he still hates me.

Zack looks at him. Zack's always sort of wanted to be friends with Drew. Drew's probably the coolest freshman in the school—he has the most attitude, gets the worst grade, etc.

"He's just spazzing out," he tells Drew, laughing at me and smiling with that stupid artificial look that I truly hate. I can tell he actually feels bad about eating my hotdog, but can't he be sincere enough not to lie about it?

Drew grins. "The freak's having too much, isn't he?"

Zack smiles evilly and gets up and away from me. I'm too nervous to care. ODD NUMBER. ODD NUMBER.

Zack and Drew are talking and laughing at me, but all the sudden Zack's smile disappears. Cody's back.

He's holding this hotdog in one hand and puts it on my tray. He puts the tray on the ground next to me.

"Hey Tapeworm," he smiles gently, like he's trying not to embarrass me and he actually cares. "I got you another hotdog. You have two again. It's an even number Tape."

I'm still tense—sort of afraid to move. Cody keeps looking at me with that reassuring face, and I want to get out of the position I'm in—it's actually embarrassing—but for some reason I can't. Cody understands.

"Come on Tapeworm," he says, with a kind look in his eyes. He pushes back the blonde hair from his forehead and with a determined look on his face opens one of my ketchup packets. It's all greasy, so it takes him awhile to open.

He finally manages to rip it open and then he opens the other one. He squeezes one ketchup packet on each hotdog, and taking a deep sigh like he doesn't want to do what he's about to do but he knows it's the right thing, he uses his right index finger to spread the ketchup along each one. I look at him flinch, and I'm grateful, because I know how much of a neat freak he is. And the fact that he's vegetarian.

When Cody was thirteen he had a pet duck and it followed him around everywhere. Its name was Itchy. I can take credit for naming it. It was the coolest duck—it was all brown and had a green head. And it quacked. How rad is that? Anyway, Cody kept it in the Martins' suite until Mr. Mosebey, the manager of the Tipton, found out when Itchy accidentally fell into a bowl of punch at the Tipton's fifth year opening anniversary and he almost lost his job to that crazy German lady with the really long name and the huge mole. Mr. Mosebey made Cody put Itchy in a cage, but Zack let Itchy out by accident when he was poking him to hear him quack. Anyway, Maddie's, (she's Zack's crush who works at the Tipton), dog Scraps and London's, (she's a rich kid who's Maddie's best friend who's father owns the Tipton Hotel), dog Ivana, started chasing poor Itchy around. Itchy kept on running until Ivana and Scraps caught him and…well, that was the end of Itchy. Cody hasn't eaten any meat ever since Itchy's death. (That was another time I saw him really mad at Zack by the way. He was really depressed. Mrs. Martin offered to get him another duck, but Cody said that none could replace Itchy—which _is_ the truth). That's basically the story of how Cody became vegetarian.

I really don't deserve Cody. He's ignoring the sniggers from Drew and Zack, and he keeps doing what he needs to do to help me. He knows me more than anybody—probably even better than my dad and my mom. (My parents try to understand, but they don't go to _this_ extent to help. My dad would probably slap my face and my mom would probably just stand there not knowing what to do). Cody knows me better than Max ever did.

Before I met Cody, Max used to be my best friend because we were the only two kids that Drew really picked on. She was always sincere and fun to be around—well, until I got OCD. She started thinking I was weird.

She still hung out with me though. We were pretty tight. But then when Cody and Zack came along, we sort of both hung out with them. Then Max started getting really close to Zack—they're dating right now—and she started not really talking to me. She's nice enough when I say hi to her or something, but I've lost the relationship I used to have with her.

"Here Tapeworm," Cody says, putting the hotdogs down on the tray and pushing it over to me. "I put on the ketchup right."

He'd probably go through the whole ritual and kiss them if I needed him too.

But I think I've got it from here.

I manage to pull apart my arms and legs, and pick up my hotdogs. They look as good as ever.

I kiss each one twice on each end, trying to ignore the laughs from Zack and Drew. I shove one in my mouth and eat it in eight bites. The other one—since I'm hungry—I finish in six bites. It tastes like heaven.

The soft bun with that juicy meat inside—I love it.

My mom always gets me hotdogs when we go out. My dad doesn't. He says they're an unnecessary waste of money and that they're about a zillion calories each anyway. That's why I like going to places with my mom more.

I've calmed down by now, and Cody looks really relieved. He opens up his own lunchbox, joins me on the ground, and starts eating his peanut butter sandwich. (Cody hates sandwiches with peanut butter and jelly mixed together. He can only eat peanut butter alone or jelly alone). I eat my sixteen grapes and eat my two brownies and drink my two cartons of milk. I throw away my apples in a bag. Those just disturb me.

I sort of spend the rest of my day daydreaming. I've had _way_ too much excitement for the day.

Cody doesn't really say anything, except he asks me if I'm ok a couple of times.

I guess it's because I look sort of scared.

Well… I do go home and see my dad next. _That_ may be scary. My heart always starts beating really fast when I think about going home to see him. I'm afraid of my dad. I don't think that's healthy. The school already had to call him about my puking during the dissection and my OCD attack in the lunchroom. My dad's probably going to scream his head off at me.

That's one thing I need to worry about. Cody doesn't know—I've never found it really necessary to tell him, but sometimes my dad really freaks me out. Sometimes I'm afraid he might kill me by accident. He's always yelling at me for this or for that. He hates my OCD more than anything and I think sometimes he wishes I'd just disappear.

I can't really help who I am though. I guess you've just got to love me or hate me.

Most of the world just takes the second option.

Review? Tapeworm with his dad next.


	5. No more glue

Chapter 5:

"CAN'T YOU GO TO SCHOOL ONE DAY WITHOUT MESSING EVERYTHING UP?"

I flinch. My dad's yelling at me. See, I told you.

I look down at my Algebra II homework, pretending to concentrate so I can ignore the burning feeling I have in my ears. I can feel my face flaming. I'm really starting to wish I had finished this at school, because now I have so much homework and I'm still not getting it done.

Stupid augmented matrices.

I did this last year in eighth grade, but I sort of forgot. I had to restart it when I went to high school.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU LITTLE FREAK?"

My face is really hot now, and I can feel my ears turning red. I feel like crying, but I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he hurt me.

"IS IT IMPOSSIBLE TO DO A DISSECTION WITHOUT MESSING UP? WHY CAN EVERYBODY ELSE DO IT?"

I don't want to listen to him. I don't want to hear it.

_You don't mean anything to me_, I try to say to myself, but who am I kidding? I'm know it hurts, you know it hurts. _I don't have to listen to this. I'm normal. I'm not a freak. I'm not messed up._

I wish that ears could close. Then I wouldn't have to listen to all the stuff he was saying about me. I could close them and not hear anything—just do my work by myself. And then when I wanted to listen again, I could open them. They would just close and open—and when I say closed, I mean closed—like those walnut shells.

"WHAT HAPPENED WITH YOUR HOTDOG? YOUR MOTHER ALREADY WASTES ENOUGH MONEY SO YOU CAN HAVE TWO OF EACH THING! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE NORMAL LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE?" He's over me and spitting everywhere.

I can see the spit fleck on my homework. I'm trying to keep my anger in and not say something I'll regret.

"HOW MUCH MORE MONEY CAN WE WASTE ON YOU? ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD?"

My mom's not here. He would never do this if my mom was here. But my mom is out with her friends shopping, and I'm stuck at home with my dad. I get scared when I'm at home alone with my dad.

"LOOK AT ME! LOOK INTO MY EYES! YOU STUPID WASTE OF LIFE!"

5x, I start writing, pressing down the pencil so hard that the tip breaks.

Shoot.

"SHOW ME THAT YOU'RE LISTENING SEAN JASON AXLE! I'M YOUR FATHER AND I EXPECT FOR YOU TO LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU!"

I'm seeing red and all the sudden I can't hold it in anymore.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU DO NOTHING FOR ME! YOU NEVER HELP ME! ALL YOU DO IS PUT ME DOWN AND SCREAM AT ME!" I howl at him, jumping out of my chair. My chair falls over, and I almost trip over it, but I'm so mad now that I don't really care. "IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT I HAVE OCD! DO YOU THINK I ASKED FOR IT? DO YOU THINK I'M HAPPY LIKE THOSE STUPID KIDS IN THOSE CLOTHING ADS? DO YOU THINK I LIKE IT WHEN I START BAWLING ABOUT SOMETHING THAT NOBODY ELSE IS BOTHERED BY? DO YOU THINK I LIKE NOT BEING NORMAL? DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY I WANT TO SWITCH LIVES WITH SOMEBODY ELSE LIKE ZACK OR CODY? WHY DO YOU MAKE IT SEEM LIKE IT'S ALL MY FAULT? IT'S NOT, OK? IT WAS YOUR DAD THAT HAD OCD AND PASSED IT ON TO ME! IT WAS IN THE GENES, OK?"

"WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE YOU?" I continue. I'm so mad I have to get it all out. "HOW CAN YOU LIKE DISSECTING THINGS LIKE THAT? IT WAS AN EYE, DAD! IT WAS AN EYE! IT LOOKED LIKE A PERSON'S EYE! I COULD HAVE BEEN DISSECTING _YOUR_ EYE! I COULD HAVE BEEN DISSECTING CODY'S EYE! HOW CAN YOU NOT BE SICK IF YOUR MIND WORKS LIKE THAT?"

My dad is staring at me in shock as I finally manage to cool down and stop shouting. I've never gotten so angry in my life. I've never talked to him like that either.

There's an awkward silence.

My dad is shaking with rage. Oh God.

He's going to kill me.

"How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice?" he hisses in a narrow whisper. "You know how hard it is to raise you? I have to work like a dog to put you through school and take you to counseling. Don't you dare talk to me like that ever again, you hear me?"

I don't trust myself enough to answer him.

I'm still pretty mad too. I bet if you poured water on me, steam would come off.

_Don't say anything_, I say to myself, trying not to let it go. But I can't help it.

"You know what?" I say angrily back. "I think I'm _over_ listening to you."

My dad's face turns all red and he suddenly reaches out a hand and slaps me as hard as he can—so hard in fact, that I fall on the ground. Then he just turns and leaves the room, leaving me there to think about what I've done.

xxx

I couldn't finish my homework last night. I actually cried myself to sleep.

Miss Evans is going to be ticked.

Mom came home really late, and I was asleep by then, so she didn't know what he did. She didn't know what her monster of a husband did to me.

She didn't notice anything in the morning either, so when I left on the bus, she still hadn't said anything.

And now I'm sitting next to Cody only he notices there's a huge red mark on my face, which I tell him that I got from falling down the stairs.

He doesn't believe me, of course. But he doesn't press either, so it's good.

Anyway, it looks like there's something wrong with Cody himself. He looks really sad and he's been quiet for almost this entire bus ride.

"What's wrong Cody?" I ask him.

He looks at me with this look that says, _You tell me what's wrong with you first_.

But I shake my head, and he gets it.

"It's just…" he breaks off. "Zack made the basketball team and I didn't."

Big deal. It's not _that_ big of a surprise, but Cody tends to get hurt like that. He's really sort of super-sensitive, so I have to be careful of what I say to him.

You see—well, in Middle School, Zack and Cody always _both_ made the team. I guess the coaches just felt bad about cutting one twin while the other twin got on the team. Well, this is high school. There are a whole lot of other _better_ players than Cody (and maybe even Zack), and I guess the coaches just can't keep Cody anymore, even though he's their star player's twin. I mean, well… they need the best players they can get. (Even _I _didn't bother to try out. I have a whole lot of other things to worry about—like finishing Miss Evans's homework for one).

"It's… it's ok, Cody," I try to tell him, but it's really not ok. Well, it's not ok for Cody. He's used to having his twin everywhere. He loves Zack more than anybody in the world.

I don't know if I'm being selfish, but I can't help sort of being angry at Cody. Why is he making such a big deal out of something so little and worthless? _I'm_ the one who has real problems at home.

Cody looks at me with such a sad look in his eyes that I completely forgot about my angry feelings towards him.

"I just feel… I just feel like Zack's always the _better _twin, the _cooler_ twin. I'm always the _good_ and _nice_ twin. I'm tired of it Tape. I'm tired of it."

"Don't be," I try to make him see that I _like_ the way he's the nice twin. "You know the reason I like you so much better than Zack is because you're not the _cooler_ twin, but you do what you know is right. You're a leader—Zack's a follower. That's what makes the difference."

"But I miss him," Cody gives me this even sadder look. My golly, those brown eyes could make even my dad cry. They have this pathetic puppy look and I hate them. Wait, I take that back. "I miss Zack. He and I used to do everything together. What's happening to that, Tape?"

I don't know what to say. I really don't.

Even I, Tapeworm Axle, the most outspoken and talkative boy in our grade, don't know what to say. I don't know how to help him.

It seems as if their bond's broken.

And it's never going to mend. Even _I_ can't glue it back together.

Review?


	6. Armageddon

Chapter 6:

"Gees Cody, I don't know," I tell him, feeling sort of uncomfortable.

I mean, what would _you_ say if somebody was almost heartbroken about not being best friends with his twin anymore. Ok… he's not _heartbroken_, I know, I'm exaggerating. But still… what _would_ you say?

I just sort of pat him awkwardly on the back, and he turns away. But not before I see the tear that runs down his cheek.

Tears make me nervous.

I usually try my hardest not to cry. It makes me feel vulnerable and helpless. Ok, I know you're thinking about last night, but I bet you would cry too.

Cody, on the other hand, cries when he needs to. I'm sort of jealous of that, if you must know the truth. He's not afraid to show what he really feels. Sometimes I wish I could be more like him.

Before I have to say something else though, the bus arrives at school. We're here.

xxx

Ok, first period's over—I managed to tell Miss Evans some long, made-up story that involved llamas and hotdogs and Armageddon. She didn't buy it, but she gave me credit for creativity. I still got a zero, and now I have _two_ assignments to finish by tomorrow.

Cody was pretty quiet during math, even though Agnes was trying to flirt with him—yes, Agnes is in our advanced placement math class too and she still holds her huge crush on Cody—only she's not so obsessive anymore. (Agnes is someone who has _really_ changed. Well, at least appearance-wise. She lost the glasses because she got contacts, got her braces off, and her hair's a lot calmer-looking now. And Max has changed some too, I guess. She looks a lot prettier now. I don't really feel like saying anything, because Zack will be after me, but the point is we've changed). I could tell Cody was thinking really hard about the whole thing with Zack, so I didn't say anything.

Anyway, next period's science—which I am now thankfully excused from, only I have to write _another_ paper—this time _ten_ pages, on how to properly dissect a sheep's eye. Cody's not excused because he didn't mess up like I did. I can tell that he'd rather write a paper with me though.

Anyway, I'm sitting outside the lab in this room called the forum, scribbling out my essay—a teacher once described my writing as "chicken scratch." You should see Cody's writing—it's perfectly rounded and small and neat, like a font… or a girl's for that matter. Anyway, I start rubbing away with my eraser—ok, I know I messed up already—and the paper rips. I get up to go get another one, but then I realized I left all my stuff in my locker. I'm on my way over to my locker, and I see Zack.

Yeah, it's not really unusual to see Zack late—he's late for class a lot—but I'm sort of surprised that he's late for dissection. Yeah, I told you how much he liked dissection, didn't I? So _why_ would he be late?

Zack's talking to some of those other kids—well, basically I mean the jocks. The kids that made the basketball team yesterday—one's Drew, of course.

And for the first time in my life, I think Zack looks kind of worried. Amazing.

"Come on, Zack, do it," Drew's saying. "It's not that hard. I mean, it's not like you _care_ about him anymore."

"Dude, Drew," Zack is trying to defend himself. "This is my _brother_ we're talking about here. My mom would _kill_ me if I did that to him."

"Well, ok, Zack. It looks like you _don't_ have what it has to be part of the team. I'm disappointed in you man."

Ok, _what_ are they talking about? It involves Cody—I got that. It involves _hurting_ Cody in some way—I got that too. But Zack wouldn't do anything to hurt his twin, would he? How could he even think about it? Cody _loves_ him more than he deserves. Cody worships him. Stupid jock that Zack Martin is. (No offense to all you jocks out there). I've never understood him… or any other jock, but when have _I_ been accepted in society?

Anyway, by now Zack has finished talking to Drew, and his face is sort of pale but determined. Like he has a really good idea of what he's about to do.

"Zack," I say, walking over to him. "What was _that_ about?"

"Shut up freak," he says, with his weird angry look. He heads off to Science.

Wow. Someone's in a bad mood. I get my stuff and go back to the desk and start writing on how to properly dissect the stupid eye. Not like I would ever do it, of course.

xxx

I'm at the Tipton with Max and Cody. See, we always have band practice there. Well, Max's parents are all conservative and they don't like our music. I always make up a story about my house being checked for termites or something, because I really don't want to see my dad. So that leaves us the Tipton.

As long as we stay in the sound-proof laundry room, Mr. Moseby is alright with it.

Anyway, Cody's looking around. "Where's Zack?"

I shrug. I haven't seen Zack since this afternoon.

"Basketball," says Max.

This look of pain flashes across Cody's face really fast, and it disappears pretty quickly too. I don't say anything.

Anyway, Cody gets everything set up—we keep all our stuff in this storage closet, and the hotel hasn't noticed yet, seeing that the cleaning lady—I think her name is Myrtle or Muriel or something—never does any work. I set up my drums, and Cody pulls out the keyboard and Max has her bass.

We're currently working on this song called "Redemption" and bluntly putting it, we're pretty bad. Well, Zack's usually our main singer, but Max is the best—just saying that she's a girl and everything. Zack's just the main singer because he's the person that sort of fits the role. Outgoing, leader, everything. Max sort of takes over since Zack's not here today.

_Loves the most dangerous game, _

_Snipping and clipping your heart away  
Everyone's bringing something new, _

_But as they leave so does a piece of you. _

_Pick up the pieces part by part, _

_There's not enough glue to mend your heart  
Be careful the pieces cut like glass _

_Take a look at your hands, the blood, the mess_

She sings softly. Max is pretty good… Cody cannot sing. Zack cannot sing. I cannot sing. Cody writes all the lyrics, and I swear, he's good at it. His favorite band, personally, is Relient K because he loves their lyrics. They're smart you can tell—well I mean, some bands aren't so intelligent. I mean, Relient K uses words like "proverbial" and "reverberating." It's just not something most bands use.

We practice for like half an hour and then at the last minute Zack comes in all sweaty and flustered in his basketball uniform.

"Where were you?" Cody demands.

"Basketball," says Zack, shrugging indifferently.

"You were _supposed_ to be here!" Cody says. "You promised. I mean, Armageddon needs you. _We_ need you."

Well, in my opinion, maybe _Cody _and Max need Zack, but _I _do not. I could live life a whole lot better without him.

"I'm sorry, alright?" Zack puts his hands up in defeat. "But the team and I stopped for pizza. It was pretty sweet. I mean, I'm sorry I missed practice, but hanging out with the team was gnarly."

Ok. When has Zack used the words _sweet_ and _gnarly?_ Hanging out with the jocks is getting to him.

Cody looks like he's going to cry. Cody tends to be really over-sensitive. I found that out when I was over at the Martins' suite and Mrs. Martin sucked up some dust bunnies with a vacuum. Cody started bawling, and it made me feel pretty bad too. I mean, I had never noticed how _cute_ the dust bunnies were before.

"Well, we needed you! And you left us for the _team!_"

"Well, I hate to break it to you Cody, but the _team_ needs me! And just because it doesn't need _you_, gives you no right to get mad at me! I'm sorry you didn't make the team, but I found out that _I_ needed the team more than I need _you_ right now! And maybe the coaches finally decided to admit that one twin has more talent than the other! So deal with it!"

Cody's lip is trembling, and he turns and leaves the room. But not before I notice a tear run down his cheek.

Something heats up inside of me—just like yesterday with Dad. I turn around and face Zack.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO YOUR BROTHER? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YOU HURT HIM?" I scream.

Zack looks at me. "I really don't care Tapeworm," he says in a selfish hiss. "I really don't care. I don't care about Cody anymore."

Review?


	7. Cell Phone

I love this story.

Chapter 7:

I hit him. I hit him as hard as I can. I hit him so hard he falls down.

And then I freak out.

I've never _ever_ hurt anybody before. I don't know, I guess it's something in my OCD, since I'm already paranoid I've hurt people when I haven't… I blame myself for airplane crashes and car accidents and all this stuff I didn't do. I've never even killed a mosquito before. I've never hurt anything.

And I just hit him.

Before I know what I'm doing, I'm running, running, running out of there. I can't deal with this. I feel like I'm going to explode.

I don't know why, but as I'm running out of the Tipton, running anywhere but back to that basement, all I can think is of that song Cody and I sang when we went to math camp with Warren. Why _that_ song comes into my mind, I have no idea. Honestly.

_Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! _

As soon as I'm about three blocks away from the Tipton, my legs give out and I don't know why but I'm bawling—I'm crying so hard. And that's saying something, because you know I _hate_ crying.

WHY AM I CRYING? That's what I want to know. I have never given a flipping, flying fig about Zackary Martin! So _why_ should I be crying now?

I'm breathing hard and I can't stop crying because the sobs keep on coming out in these weird hiccupy gasps. Then I realize that I know why.

Sure I messed up my whole peace thing of never ever hurting anybody in the whole entire world not even squishing an ant, but I think the main reason is because I don't know who I am anymore. Yesterday I would have said, "I'm Tapeworm," but I don't think I'm Tapeworm anymore, because Tapeworm doesn't hurt people.

I'm afraid I'm becoming more like my dad. I mean, I just hit Zack so hard he fell down just like my dad did to me last night.

And I don't want that to happen, because if I do, I'll lose myself. Forever.

xxx

After stumbling around for like an hour, I manage to walk home. It really didn't help that it was raining either. It also didn't help that I have like the worse sense of direction in the world. I got lost at least fourteen—even number—times. My legs hurt really bad. Believe it or not, three miles is harder to walk than you would think.

Anyway, by the time I get home, it's pretty late because the sky is already dark. I _haven't_ started on any of my homework, which means zeros the next day for sure. I knock on the door of my house, and my dad opens it. Great. Mom must be working late.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" he yells after taking one look at my soaking wet shirt and hair.

I just push myself in and ignore him. I go up to my room—which is a really nice orange, by the way, well orange _is_ my favorite color—and drop my backpack on the ground. I pull out my math and try to concentrate on it. If I skip one more assignment in math, Miss Evans will probably kick me out of advanced placement and then I'd have to be with Bob and Zack. Eeww…

Anyway, I've managed to pull out my math book and paper. My cell phone rings. I flip it open. It's Zack.

"Hey," I say. "What do you want?"

"Tapeworm?" Zack says. "I'm going to kill you."

"I'm sorry," I say. "Are you ok? I really didn't mean to. I cried for like three hours after I hit you."

"Yeah right," Zack says.

I start explaining all my ideals and everything, leaving my dad out of it completely, of course. But then my dad comes in. Oh God. I don't need this.

"WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? WHERE WERE YOU? WHY ARE YOU LATE? WHY ARE YOU WET?"

It sounds like he's almost concerned, but who am I kidding? He's only worried because if Mom found out he lost me, then she'd kick him out.

"LOOK AT ME BOY!"

I turn around and face him. I can feel myself getting angry again and I feel like I'm going to cry, but I decide I've done enough crying for the day.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I really feel sad, and all the sudden the anger just sort of drains out of me. My cell phone falls to the floor.

"DON'T YOU SAY SORRY TO ME BOY! YOU HAVE TO GET HOME ON TIME! YOU HAVE TO DO YOUR HOMEWORK! HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO DO WELL, YOU WORTHLESS KID? WHY DON'T YOU DO YOUR WORK INSTEAD OF TALKING TO YOUR FRIENDS? YOU'RE PATHETIC." He doesn't notice that the cell is still open. I bend down to pick it up. I don't need Zack to know this. I have enough problems as it is. I don't need Zack spreading rumors around school.

I try to close it, but my dad kicks my hand.

A tear falls. I can't help it.

My dad sees it. Instead of getting sad, he gets even more mad. "DON'T YOU DARE CRY YOU COWARD! YOU WASTE OF LIFE! DON'T YOU DARE CRY—STOP BEING SUCH A WUSS!"

I can't help it. I cry harder.

"I'm sorry," I say again, but Dad doesn't care.

He slaps me, knocking me to the ground. He slams his foot hard on my back, knocking the wind out of me and steps on my ribs until there's this sickening _crunch_ sound like the time Zack squished all of Cody's potato chips. I scream out in pain and he kicks me in the face. So my screams are softened to whimpers. He then reaches down with his hands and grabs my throat. I can't breathe. He's squeezing harder and I'm gasping and trying to breathe, but I can't. Everything gets all hazy and the room starts spinning. The song is running through my mind again, and I wish more than anything that it would get out and this would just stop. _Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers!_

I need someone to save me. I don't know. Mom. Cody. Miss Evans even. _Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! _

Wouldn't Miss Evans be happy now? I'm thinking about math before I die. In my opinion, that's really retarded. _Inverse tangent, hyperbolic sign, 3.14159, yay numbers! _

My dad lets go and I fall to the ground. _Thud._ My head sort of bounces up as it hits the ground and my sides really hurt. My neck really hurts and it's really hard to breathe. Black dots cloud my vision, and the last thing I see is my cell phone. It's still open. The screen still reads "Zack Martin." Zack's still on the line.

He's still on the line. _He's still on the line. _

Review?


	8. Pity and Paint

Chapter 8:

Ugh. I _really_ don't feel so well. Well, first of all, my back hurts. And then second, my neck hurts. And third, my mom didn't come home last night so I'm stuck here with my dad. (Sometimes my mom gets busy shifts—well, she's a doctor—so she has to stay at the hospital, and I get to stay home with my dad). Woohoo…

Anyway, my dad doesn't look at me. My cell died so I don't have any idea if Zack did anything.

I really hope he didn't. I have enough to worry about without everybody knowing that my dad hurts me at home, or being sent to a foster home. I really wouldn't want that, since Mom takes good care of me and everything.

Anyway, I'm eating this weird soggy cereal, and when my dad comes down the stairs, I grab all my stuff and run. The bus driver really won't care if I'm early or not.

xxx

Miss Evans finishes giving me this long talk outside about how I should be finishing my homework, but I really don't feel like complaining or trying to excuse myself. I tell her I waste time a lot, and I'll try to finish my three assignments by tomorrow.

Miss Evans looks sort of worried, because I don't make up one of my famous Tapeworm excuse stories.

Ugh, Science. I hate this class. It gives me all of the problems.

Anyway, I _still_ have to do that long, stupid paper, so I get out my pencil and look at what I have so far.

_This essay will discuss dissecting a sheep's eye. First you get a scalpel and make an incision at the_

Incision WHERE? Oh God.

I fish this packet thing out of my backpack that has all the lovely parts of the eye written on it. Someone comes up behind me.

Guess who?

"What do you want Zack?" I say, sort of angrily.

"Tapeworm?" He sounds sort of sorry, but I really don't want his sympathy right now. "Tapeworm, I need to talk to you."

"Go dissect your eye, Zack," I say.

"Tapeworm!" he yelps, taking me in my chair and turning both of us (the chair and I) around to face him. I don't feel like seeing his ugly face.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Zack's giving me pity and I don't want pity from him.

"Tapeworm, you need to tell somebody."

"No!" I practically scream. "I can't, ok? I can't! Why? Because he doesn't hurt me that bad and I really don't want to deal with it. I don't want to deal with it…" There's a lump in my throat and I'm afraid I'm going to cry.

That's the last thing I need Zack to see.

"Your dad beats you—that's _not_ normal, Tapeworm. That's really not. _I'll_ tell somebody."

"Shut up Zack. Don't tell _anybody_, or else _I'll _tell your mom that you're going to hurt Cody."

I turn away from him. I don't need this. I don't need to hear this anymore.

He tries to say something, but I just block him out. I don't need this.

xxx

It's after school and I'm _really_ not interested in going home. I'll stay away for as long as possible.

I want to ask Cody so badly if I can just go home with him and not go home at all, but I really can't do that. So I'm just walking with him, trying not to get him to go home and stay with me. He has to stay late anyway, since Zack has basketball practice, so Mrs. Martin only wants to pick him up once—and she doesn't feel like paying the bus fee today.

We're just walking around and I really want to tell him that I heard Zack talking about hurting him, but I know Cody won't believe me, so I don't say anything at all. He'll just protect Zack and deny that that kid's really messed up, so yeah. He doesn't say anything about yesterday either, when Zack really hurt him, so I don't bring it up. I've cried enough these days without needing to watch Cody cry too. Watching Cody cry makes me sadder than when I cry myself.

We sit down on a couple of lunch benches, and look out at nowhere, I guess. Cody seems to be focusing on something, and I want to poke him and ask him what's so interesting about the soccer field, but I don't think I can ruin that moment. So, being the truly _kind_ person that I am, I just sit and look at him.

It's perfectly quiet, and for once I feel completely peaceful.

Of course someone has to wreck it for us.

There's a sound from behind us, and as Cody and I turn around we see Zack, complete with a couple of guys from the basketball team, including Drew. And with them, they have a few buckets of paint.

Sorry it's a bit short, but I had to end it there. It's a weird cliffy. Oh, I think I'm leaving _Currently Without a Name_ as the title. Review, please.


	9. Losing Myself

Chapter 9:

I want to know what the paint is for.

If they're going to beat us up and everything, _why _do they need paint? It's in huge cans—it's like the ones they paint houses with.

Cody's moved closer to me, and he looks all scared. I grab onto him. Yeah, everybody always says that Zack is Cody's protector. He's the stronger, bigger twin. Yeah right. If everybody could just see Tapeworm the protector now, I'd laugh at them. So much for Zack protecting his brother.

_I _just hope that Zack will _pay_ for his actions when he goes down to you-know-where. I want to know what kind of person can hurt his own _brother_, or rather _twin. _See, there's nothing wrong with him hurting _me. _But Cody? Aren't twins supposed to have that whole telepathic communication and closeness thing? I guess Zack broke it, like he took an axe and chopped down a tree, like George Washington and his cherry tree. I guess he broke their bond in the same way.

"You ready?" asks Drew, smirking at Zack. God, I want to punch that face of his—it's all smug like a bulldog's.

Ok, _I _get ready to run. _I _really don't feel like being involved in the paint massacre. So _I _try and get up and make a break for it, only _I _can't move. Why? Cody's holding onto me as hard as he can with those scared eyes, and he can be _heavy _when he wants to be.

So I'm yelling at him, "Cody! Cody! Come on, we have to get out of here! We've got to get out of here!" but he's just sitting there looking at Zack with those scared puppy eyes that say, "You're not going to hurt me, are you brother?" So _I'm _screaming, "Come on! He's going to hurt you!" and Cody's yelling back at me all the sudden, "No he's _not! _Zack won't hurt me!" and I'm just praying that Cody's right and Zack won't hurt him because that will destroy him worse than anything else that's happened these days. It'll break his heart if Zack does it.

Zack pauses, looking hard at his brother like he's saying, _I can't do this._ I'm wishing that it will stay that way.

But of course it doesn't, because stories never really have happy endings. They always say that—that they lived happily ever after. Tell me one time that has happened. Life never goes on happily ever after.

Zack does it. He breaks Cody's heart.

Before long, all of them are all standing around, throwing huge buckets of paint on us until I feel like I'm drowning. They're laughing, and Zack's laughing. That's the thing that hurts me the most. Zack's laughing. _I _really don't care, but I just don't know how he could do that to Cody, the nicest person in the whole school who has never hurt anybody.

The paint—which is all different colors, like pink, purple, white, yellow. _I _have no idea where they got it, (maybe from the art class?), but it's sliding down my shirt and falling in my hair and covering my face so I can't even breathe anymore. I never knew that paint could be so heavy. I'm punching wildly (and blindly), because I've learned one thing. You can't trust people you don't know and it doesn't matter if I hurt them. It really doesn't matter anymore.

Why? Because I've lost Tapeworm. I've lost Sean. I've lost everything of who I am.

Tapeworm doesn't hurt people. Tapeworm doesn't get mad. Tapeworm just stands there on the sideline—the loud but peaceful guy. Tapeworm comes from a loving family. Tapeworm doesn't cry.

And Tapeworm's gone. Tapeworm's dead.

I realize that and now I'm bawling and just punching everybody. Drew runs back, seeing that I punched him hard in the nose. He's shocked. Why? Because Tapeworm has never hit anybody before—he doesn't know about Zack. I hope I broke his nose. See, that shows how different I am again. I'm not Tapeworm anymore. Tapeworm doesn't want to hurt people.

Some of the jocks are leaving, but they're still grinning and toss the rest of the paint on us. I feel so heavy and weighed down. They take a couple of pictures, laugh at us, and leave.

I manage to open my eyes and that's when I see Cody.

He's curled up and if I was bawling, Cody is super-bawling. The tears are just running down his face like his life depends on it, and all this pink paint is dripping from his hair, and his sobs are coming out in these soft hiccupy gasps. He looks at me with this sad look and his lip is trembling, and his brown eyes are asking one question: _Why? _

And I just give him this look that says, _I don't know. _Because I don't know anymore. I don't know. I don't know why Zack could do that to his brother—the kid who's been his best friend all his life. I don't know why Drew finds it funny to hurt other people. I don't know why I punched Drew in the nose. I don't know who I am, I don't know who Zack is, I don't know who my dad is, I may not even know who Cody is anymore.

And it's killing me.

Review?


	10. Broken Record and Goldfish

Chapter 10:

For the rest of the day, everything seems like a blur.

Mrs. Martin picks Cody up—he's too shocked to tell her who hurt him. She looks at me like _I _should have done something, but how could I? I _tried_, and she finally gets it, with this sympathetic look she gives me. By this time, Zack's out here, and he's telling her he had no idea what happened because he was at basketball. He's putting on a sob story act, bawling about how he's so mad he couldn't have saved Cody because he loves his brother and how he should have known because his twin connection was hurt. Yeah right, what a bunch of watermelon seeds.

She buys it. People always buy Zack's sad stories—I hate it.

Anyway, she drives me home—even though I tell her I'd rather not go home—and she drops me off. I feel really bad because her whole car seat is covered with pink paint and it smells sort of funny—but hey, _her_ son did it. I don't say anything. It's up to Zack to confess, or Cody to tell on him. I know Cody won't though. He still loves Zack even after what his stupid brother did to us. Why didn't he run? Why'd he just sit there and stare at me like an idiot when I told him we had to get out of there? I'm not that strong, I can't lift more than one hundred pounds and run with it, no matter _how _skinny Cody really is.

She parks and I climb out of the car, noticing the lovely picture that has been painted on the car's seat.

I ring the doorbell of my house, and my dad opens it. Oh God. I look around at the driveway, and my mom's car isn't parked there.

Woohoo. Bonding time with Daddy.

My dad waves to Mrs. Martin, and then slams the door shut after I've gotten in the house.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW?"

I don't blame him this time. I really don't. I mean, my hair is all plastered together with light yellow paint, my shirt is covered in pink paint, my face has little dried paint flecks all over it, my pants are purple, and when I walk, my shoes squirt out white paint.

I don't answer him. I know that that's going to really tick him off, but I don't really care anymore. He can kill me.

"ANSWER ME BOY!" he yells.

I just walk by like I didn't hear him. I'm not surprised when he kicks me from behind in the legs and I fall down. Pretty soon he's on me and my head's hurting because I think he's kicking me from behind. Oh well, I've lived for a couple of years—I guess I don't need anymore. He's screaming at me, but I don't seem to hear him anymore. Everything's just all blurry and I can't tell anything apart. This pain hits me, and I guess this is what it's like to die as everything goes black.

xxx

When I wake up it seems like 10 million hours later, which I remind myself it probably is. I have a killer headache, and when I raise up my head to see where I am, I think my head is going to split itself in half. I put my head down immediately, but not before I've seen where I am.

A hospital. The walls are white, I've got a cast on my arm, and Cody's sitting in a chair, sleeping, his head resting on his shoulder. His eyes are red, so I can tell he's been crying. Yeah, what's going on?

I try to lift up my head again, but it hurts so much I let out a small moan.

Cody's eyes flash open. "Tape!"

"Yeah?" I mutter.

"Oh my God, you're awake!" He looks across to my other side where I haven't looked and keeps yelling. "Tapeworm's awake! Tapeworm's awake! TAPEWORM'S AWAKE!"

Yeah, ok, I know I'm awake, and Cody's voice sounds as loud as a Fall Out Boy concert. How loud is he screaming? Is he trying to wake up King Tut? The mummy's dead, stupid. I close my eyes and try to drown out his voice.

Pretty soon someone's shaking me really hard and yeah, it's Cody. His eyes are so excited and happy that I really can't get mad at him. I've told you a lot about those eyes.

Someone pulls Cody off me, and I look up. My blood almost freezes. It's Zack.

I bring my eyes away from him, but Zack stops me. "Tapeworm. I need to talk to you."

"Ok…" I break off warily. But before he can say anything, my mother pops seemingly out of nowhere and hugs me so hard I can't breathe.

"Oh my God, Sean, I'm so sorry, I didn't know." She's almost as hysterical as Cody when he starts hyperventilating after he eats too much sugar. "I'm so sorry, I left you home with that _man, _I should have come home, I should have babysat you, I should have known better. I didn't know. I'm sorry. Don't hate me, please forgive me…" She's babbling away like a broken record and all I can do is sort of pat her and hug her back weakly. "I should have done something, why didn't I notice the bruises? I'm so stupid, I'm such a bad mother, I shouldn't have left you home alone, you're too young, you're too small… I'm so glad I kicked that man out of my house, I'm sorry. I'm sorry Sean."

"It's ok," I say weakly. Then I realize what she just said. "Wait, you kicked Dad out?"

"Well after I got the call, of _course _I kicked your dad out! I've already gotten divorced, and he's spending awhile in jail, Sean." My mom talks a lot when she gets the chance. Did I ever tell you that? She's going on about how sorry she is even though I already told her it was ok.

I guess I get the talkative genes from her.

I'm curious. "What call?"

She looks around warily and closes her mouth. _That _is strange for my mom. She's always talking away all excitedly. She looks close at me and kisses my head. "I'm sorry Sean."

She gets up and gets ready to leave the room. Cody follows her, and Mrs. Martin, who has been sitting there quietly the whole time gets up and leaves to. Cody winks at me and mouths, "Zack wanted to talk to you."

Wow. My _mom's _leaving. It must be a big deal.

Silence settles over the room and Zack takes a deep breath. He opens his mouth to get ready to speak, and closes it, like he can't believe he's doing this. He opens it again, reminding me of a stupid goldfish.

"Tapeworm…"

Review? Haha, next chapter this story will probably be finished.


	11. Confidence

Chapter 11: Confidence

"_What_?" I'm trying not to sound mean, but what can you say to a guy who tried to drown you in _paint?_

"I… uh…" Yeah, yeah, you dork. Lose your confidence. I feel so mean, but I know that Zack had this coming for him all along.

I mean, what kind of kid tries to _drown _his brother in paint? What kind of kid is so weak that he can't stand up for his own _twin?_ What kind of kid _lies _about it too? If he wanted to hurt somebody—he could at least admit it.

"Yeah?" I say disinterestedly, glancing somewhere else. Zack tries to catch my gaze, but I'm not going to let him.

"Uh…"

"Would you just _say _it already?" I snap. I mean, Zack Martin has _finally _lost his confidence, and I'm _glad _about it. "Get on with it!"

"I'm sorry, ok?" he bursts out. "I'm sorry! I was a complete idiot! I shouldn't have done any of those things to you—or to Cody. I've already made it up to Cody—he's forgiven me—but now I need to have _your _forgiveness too!"

"_Why?_" All this time Zack Martin has never cared about me. Why should he start _now?_

"I need it," he pushes his tongue around in his mouth like he doesn't know what to say. "I need you to forgive me because I messed up bad, Tapeworm. I messed up, and I need to start over. But I can't start over until I'm forgiven. I mean, Cody's forgiven me, Mom's _grounded _me, but I'm forgiven too—and all I need is for you to forgive me so I can go on. Or else I'm just stuck on the same page again, and I can't change, Tapeworm. I can't. So _please_, please give that to me."

I don't answer his pleas. Instead, I go on a completely different topic. "So, how did I get here?"

Zack looks distressed, but he doesn't say anything. He just decides to answer my question. "Well, you didn't come to school, so I got worried. I told Cody what I knew—he didn't believe me—why should he have believed anything I said after what I did to him? He didn't believe me, but I started crying—yes, Zack Martin started crying—and he got scared and thought I had to be telling the truth. So then he called your house, but no one picked up. So I called the police, they found you—your dad had taken off somewhere—and they brought you out here. About two hours later, they found your dad, and your mom was called. You've been out for about two days—your mom works _fast _when she's mad. I mean, she just got the divorce papers and _everything_, and the divorce is almost final. Your dad's going to jail for awhile… and well, that's basically how you got here. I called the police."

There's silence for awhile. I know he has to be telling the truth, but part of me doesn't want to believe him. Why? Because if I believe him, then I'll forgive him, and Cody was right all along. That's not really the problem. The problem is that if I _do _believe him, I'll think he's ok, and then, knowing Zack, he's going to mess up again and make it all worse than it already was. Cody can't deal with that. I can't deal with that.

See, Cody forgives too easily. And Tapeworm used to forgive easily too. But over these last couple of days with all this drama and all these events, Tapeworm's disappeared. The Tapeworm that I am disappeared. The Tapeworm that I _used _to be is gone, and has been replaced with some sort of stranger—some stranger currently without a name.

Zack stands there, his hands in his pockets, kicking the ground nervously. "I'm sorry."

"Zack…" I say, breaking off. "Zack… I want to forgive you. I want to more than anything. I'm just afraid that you're going to turn around and hurt us all again, and I can't deal with that, Zack. I really can't. The Tapeworm that you knew would forgive you. But I'm not Tapeworm anymore, Zack. I'm not Tapeworm. I don't even know _what _I am anymore. I don't know _who _I am, because Tapeworm's gone and in his place is this stranger that's not me. This stranger that wants less than anything in the world to move on and let go and forgive you. I can't do it. I can't do anything until I find myself first."

"Tapeworm," Zack protests, grabbing onto my hand. Usually I'd jerk away from him, but he's squeezing it so I can't really pull away. And these tears are spilling out of his eyes and he's gasping. I really don't want to see Zack Martin break. _That _would be a little too strange for me.

"Tapeworm, you _haven't _changed. You're still the same person. You're still Tapeworm," his voice cracks. "You're still Tapeworm, can't you see? _I _was the one that changed, _I _was the one who messed up really bad. And I need a second chance, Tape. I need a second chance to change who I've become to who I used to be. And only _you _can give that to me."

He breaks past my protest, and continues, "You're still the same. You're still the same Tapeworm who looks after Cody and is best friends with my brother. You're still the same crazy kid with all his weird stories and OCD attacks. You're still the same kid who wants to protect Cody more than anything in the world, and that's why you can't forgive me. Because I hurt Cody, and that's what you've been trying to stop all along. Please, Tapeworm."

His eyes are begging me, and that's when I notice that Cody and Zack have the exact same puppy dog eyes. "Just look inside, because you're still Tapeworm. I know it, Cody knows it, your mom knows it. Even your _dad _knows it, and that's why he's mad because he hasn't been able to change you or break you. You're still the strong-willed talkative kid that you've always been, so _please _Tapeworm, find it in you. You're still there."

There's a silence after he finishes. I think really hard. Is Zack Martin right? I mean, what he says is logical. If I'd changed that much, Cody wouldn't be hanging out with me anymore. My dad wouldn't still hate me. I wouldn't be thinking all these crazy thoughts in my head.

As Zack sits there bawling with those tears streaming down his face, I look hard at him and realize he's right. He's right.

Zack Martin's right.

"I forgive you," I manage to say, noticing that my voice cracks. Yeah, I'm still Tapeworm. Even my voice has the same quality of rising and falling, since it hasn't broken yet.

"Thanks, buddy," Zack says. All the sudden, I realize how much Zack's like Cody. They're both willing to forgive, willing to admit their mistakes, willing to start over. That's how they're related. Not because they're twins, identical, or brothers, it's because they have the same kindness and confidence.

They helped me find my confidence. That's strange. The two most insecure kids in the freshmen grade helped the kid with the most secure self-esteem find himself again.

The world works in weird ways.

_The End _

Gasp. I'm _done?_ YES, YES, YES! I've _completed _a story! That's _such _an accomplishment! Well, review, and keep your eyes open for a sequel. Sort of a corny ending, but I thought it worked.


End file.
